Властелин колец: Две башни

           SoKingThéodenrodefromHelm’sGateandclovehispathtothegreatDike.Therethecompanyhalted.Lightgrewbrightaboutthem.Shaftsofthesunflaredabovetheeasternhillsandglimmeredontheirspears.Buttheysatsilentontheirhorses,andtheygazeddownupontheDeeping-coomb.

           Thelandhadchanged.Wherebeforethegreendalehadlain,itsgrassyslopeslappingtheever-mountinghills,therenowaforestloomed.Greattrees,bareandsilent,stood,rankonrank,withtangledboughandhoaryhead;theirtwistedrootswereburiedinthelonggreengrass.Darknesswasunderthem.BetweentheDikeandtheeavesofthatnamelesswoodonlytwoopenfurlongslay.TherenowcoweredtheproudhostsofSaruman,interrorofthekingandinterrorofthetrees.TheystreameddownfromHelm’sGateuntilallabovetheDikewasemptyofthem,butbelowittheywerepackedlikeswarmingflies.Vainlytheycrawledandclamberedaboutthewallsofthecoomb.seekingtoescape.Upontheeasttoosheerandstonywasthevalley’sside;upontheleft,fromthewest,theirfinaldoomapproached.

           Theresuddenlyuponaridgeappearedarider,cladinwhite,shiningintherisingsun.Overthelowhillsthehornsweresounding.Behindhim,hasteningdownthelongslopes,wereathousandmenonfoot;theirswordswereintheirhands.Amidthemstrodeamantallandstrong.Hisshieldwasred.Ashecametothevalley’sbrink,hesettohislipsagreatblackhornandblewaringingblast.

           ’Erkenbrand!’theRidersshouted